


blood and sex and nick's name on his lips

by genee



Category: Bandom, Music RPF, Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-13
Updated: 2008-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-19 06:12:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/197819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genee/pseuds/genee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Chris Kane wasn't Pete's type, not that it mattered. He wasn't Nick's type, either, but he left marks all over Nick's body anyway.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	blood and sex and nick's name on his lips

**Author's Note:**

> My abandoned slashfic25 claim rearing it's quirky little head. :)

Chris Kane wasn't Pete's type, not that it mattered. He wasn't Nick's type, either, but he left marks all over Nick's body anyway, marks Pete couldn't stop himself from touching later, fitting his hands in just the same grooves. Nick smiled when Pete asked about him, said Pete would like him if they ever met. Pete didn't, though. He didn't like Chris the first time, all muscles and attitude, his fingers twisted in Nick's hair and spread out across Pete's hip, his mouth on the soft skin at the base of Pete's throat, pool of sweat and ink and Chris's low growl -- and Pete didn't like him now, either.

He didn't like Chris's scuffed up boots, didn't like the way his jeans tugged across his thighs or the way he stood there with his legs spread, like he had some sort of right to the space, and he especially didn't like the way Chris smirked when he looked Pete over, his eyes all crinkled up at the corners, his voice open and slow. There was something about him, the way he sounded, like there were words hanging in the air between them Pete couldn't quite hear. He said, "You lost, boy?" and Pete tried to parse it out, but really, it wasn't much to work with.

Pete looked around a little, shrugged, and Chris's smirk shifted into something better, long-neck in one hand and the other wrapped around Pete's wrist, calloused fingers dragging over his skin, pulling him closer. Pete wondered what they looked like, what _he_ looked like, jeans low on his hips and his eyeliner smudged, and then some asshole in the crush of this noisy, crowded, fucking fire-hazard of a redneck Nashville bar knocked into his back and spat out, "Fuckin' faggot," and Pete didn't have to wonder any more.

Chris swore through gritted teeth, his eyes dark, dangerous, his hands curled into fists, and Pete held himself still until the asshole behind him laid one of his sweaty palms on Pete's shoulder, so close Pete could smell him, whiskey and stink.

Pete's vision blurred at the edges like it always did before a fight, his fist connecting with the guy's jaw before he thought it through, Chris's fists flying beside his, heavy sound of punches landing, boots, guts, disadvantage of Pete's old Chuck T's. Smear of blood across his lips, his nose, his heart beating loud in his ears. Chris's voice, his breath, his swollen knuckles and the cut above his eye, both of them grinning stupidly at each other on the sidewalk after, dragged out by security, neon lights and Pete's hands pressed carefully against his own ribs.

Chris's place was cluttered and messy and felt like home, Pete sprawled across his unmade bed, his dick leaking all over and Chris fucking him so deep Pete wanted to crawl inside himself and taste it, wanted Chris's dick in his mouth and Chris's fist in his ass, broken fingers taped together and curled against his prostate, pulse beating against his hole and every breath sharp in his lungs aching, his knees spread wide as they'll go and words spilling out of his mouth, Chris's arm wrapped around his chest and Chris's voice low and ragged, hard slam of his hips, hot, slick, Pete's jizz white ribbons on the sheets.

Chris mumbled something about calling Nick in the morning and Pete let himself drift off right there, awake and then not, blood and sex and Nick's name on his lips, Nick's smile, Chris's legs all tangled with his own.

 

\--End--


End file.
